


Dreaming in Black and White

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood, Dark Imagery, Drabble, Gore, M/M, Violence, dream - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-06
Updated: 2014-01-06
Packaged: 2018-01-07 19:06:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1123321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Adult Dean are in a consensual relationship. Dream Dean is "young" and the situation is non-con, but alas, it's just a dream. I do not condone the abuse of Dean, mud, or blindfolds in this story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreaming in Black and White

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own these lovely characters. The CW owns Supernatural. Kripke is the masterbuilder in the SPN universe.

 

John reaches towards Dean.  It’s a force of habit, to make sure Dean is still with him.  Moonlight shines through the window, whispering upon Dean’s smooth, freckled back.

 

“Hey old man,” Dean says.

 

“I’m not old.”

 

“It’s good then, that I see with my heart and not through my eyes.”

 

John’s laugh rumbles into Dean’s hair. Soon his son’s deep breathing lulls John into a suffocating, hot, slumber.

 

 

***

 

Everything is cast in black and white. Chiaroscuro dominates the rocks and cliff and mossy ground.  Thunder shakes beneath them. Lightning lights up the sunless sky. The stratus clouds sail above, menacing, as if they had limbs to reach out and strangle the man and the boy.

 

“You can let me go.”

 

“I can’t.”

 

John pins Dean’s wrist against the slick, muddy ground.

 

“You let Sam go.”

 

John stabs one wrist with a rusty, metal, spike; impaling Dean’s wrist into the slippery ground beneath them. Dean’s body convulses beneath John, struggling to push John off with his free hand. John wrestles the other hand to the ground and does the same. It’s difficult this time. John huffs twice, and finally the skin gives way and the spike glides into the ground.

 

The yells are deafening. A constant cry of  ** _Daddy…No…Daddy_** vibrates in John’s ears.

 

“I couldn’t let Sam see me or you. But you don’t need your eyes. Do you, Dean?”

 

John pulls out a serrated, Marine hunting knife. Slowly, with soft cooing noises, he carves out Dean’s left eye. John is careless and scratches the surrounding skin. Dean’s screams drown amidst the sound of thunder. Blood oozes down Dean’s face.  John utilizes the tip of the knife to etch out the other eye. The eyes disappear in the fall of black rain.

 

“Let me help you.”  John wraps a cloth around Dean’s eyes. Black tears streak Dean’s face.  It begins to flow, down Dean’s face, onto his neck and down his muscled torso.

 

John pulls on Dean’s muddied legs, ignoring the thrashing. John pushes in without prep, ripping past the fighting muscle to slide inside.

 

“Dad.” Rain falls upon Dean's lips. “Dad...Stop...Please.”

 

“You won’t let me,” John says careening in, pulling out, and pistoning into the hot, comforting, tightness.

 

Blood soaks through the blindfold, surprisingly a deep red against the gray landscape.

 

John maintains a blistering pace. 

 

“I don’t want this.”

 

“Shut up. I hate that mouth of yours. It’s really only good for sucking cock.”  John’s hands drive the metal spikes deeper, opening new wounds in Dean’s wrists.

 

 

***

 

 

“Dean,” John screams, sitting upright in bed.  He catches a flash of silver at the corner of his eye.

 

“What’s going on?” Dean says.

 

“Bad dream. Put the knife away,” John says, cringing.

 

“You sure?” Dean says. He gets up and checks the salt lines. His nude body shimmers, bathing in moonlight. He secures his knife back underneath his pillow. “Really?”

 

Dean’s eyes look hollow and black in the absence of light.

 

“Yeah, I’m sure."

 

 

 

 


End file.
